


Built on Memories

by egosoffire



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7034878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egosoffire/pseuds/egosoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Karen find Frank without memories. Written for a prompt at the daredevil kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finding Frank

Matt and Karen had found Frank at the bottom of a ditch.

Karen had reluctantly called Matt, desperate to find him. When they did, they found that he was unconscious, bloodied, and yet, alive. 

Matt could hear the shallow breathing coming from below. He touched Karen on the shoulder, lightly. She flinched a bit and didn't even meet his eyes. It had only been a few short weeks since she'd learned the truth, and he knew for a fact that she wasn't taking it well.

"Is he okay?" she asked, quietly. "I mean, is he ... alive down there?" 

"Yes, he's alive," Matt replied. He looked towards Karen. "I'm going down to get him..." 

Matt then jumped into the ditch.

Landing easily, he rushed over to Frank's side, kneeling near him. Frank had sustained an obvious, bloody head injury, but other than that, he seemed in decent shape. 

He shook Frank's arm, hard. 

"Frank, wake up," he demanded. "Wake up!"

Frank groaned, loudly, but slowly came to. Matt could sense his eyes opening, could hear his lids fluttering as he came back into consciousness. He looked straight at Matt and opened and closed his mouth as he tried to speak. 

"Frank, what happened?" Matt asked tensely. 

Frank tried to sit up, then groaned out in pain. 

"What the hell are you?" he asked, falling back to the ground.

"Frank..."

"Frank, who's Frank...can't...reach it." 

Frank then passed out again. Matt paused, unsure of how to take the words. Deciding that it wasn't a good time to ask, he picked Frank up, hoisting his limp form against his shoulder, before propelling himself upward and out of the ditch. Karen was waiting for them, staring.

"Matt, what happened?" she asked. "I heard you two talking, but I couldn't hear what you were saying... Did he pass out again?" 

"He did," Matt said. "Let's take him to my apartment. Quick, before someone sees us." 

Karen followed him to the apartment without a word. Matt carried Frank up the familiar steps, brought him inside and laid him down on his bed. He then felt Karen staring at him, hard. 

"What?" he asked.

"Something's bothering you - a lot," she said immediately. "What is it?" 

"It's just something he said when we were down in that ditch," Matt admitted. "He sounded confused when I said his name." 

"I'm sure it's nothing." 

"Yeah, it's always something..." 

It was indeed something. 

Frank woke up again a few moments later, crying out in pain. Karen and Matt immediately ran into the bedroom. 

Frank looked up at them and yelled out.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded, voice raspy. "Who the hell are you people? Why can't I...why can't I remember?" 

"Frank..." Karen said, gently.

"What are you saying?" Frank asked, sitting up. Matt could sense the pain that he was in, but it didn't seem to matter to Frank. He rose above it. "Frank...I can't..." 

"Listen Frank," Karen said, taking control of the situation. "Do you remember anything at all? Your name, your age... anything about your life?"

The calm tone of Karen's voice seemed to calm Frank a bit. He sat back against the headboard of the bed. Matt could feel his terror - it came through in the rapid rate of his heart and his breathing. It also came through in the tiniest of whimpers that came from him, inaudible to one without Matt's senses. Frank was terrified and he had no idea what was going on. 

"No," he whispered. 

"Okay Frank," Karen said, breathing deeply. "Well, my name is Karen and this is Matt. It seems that you got hurt. Something must have made you forget, that's all. Lay back and close your eyes for a minute, okay? Matt and I need to talk about something." 

She then dragged Matt out of the room. 

"He doesn't remember." 

Matt raised an eyebrow. 

"Did you really drag me out of there to tell me that?" he asked. "I think I could jump to that conclusion..." 

"How does he not remember, Matt?" Karen asked, her voice dark, with no humor whatsoever. "He doesn't remember anything. Not even his own name. How is that even possible?" 

"It must be from the head injury," Matt replied, quickly. "I mean, he does have a gash on the back of his head and when we found him he was unconscious."

"This isn't a movie, Matt!" Karen groaned. "I mean, amnesia happens, but it's not going to happen like some movie cliche of 'where am I? who am I?' This just feels unreal..." 

"It doesn't matter how it happened," Matt said. He was honestly just as perplexed as Karen. "What matters is that we have Frank now, and he doesn't remember a thing about himself. What are we supposed to do?" 

Karen stared at Matt hard. The intensity coming off of her hit him in waves. 

"We need to help him recover," she said, firmly. 

"You're right..." 

Of course she was right. Frank was in their care now, and they had to make sure that he recovered. Of course, Matt's original plan had been to turn Frank in. He was, after all, an escaped convict and a murderer and it was the only right thing to do. 

Except he couldn't, at least not yet.

\---

Frank did not take kindly to his situation. Two hours later, he was sitting up in Matt's bed, at least, but his physical well-being improving did not improve his memory impairment in the slightest.

"I don't get this," Frank said, looking from Matt to Karen desperately. "So, here I am. I don't know who I am, or anything about myself. I don't know either of you, but you're looking at me like mother hens, so you must care about me." 

"We do care, Frank," Karen said earnestly. "Really...we care a lot..."

"Well, that's nice. How do I even know you?"

Karen stammered. It was obvious to Matt that she wanted to tell the truth, because telling the truth was in Karen's nature, but at the same time, she realized just as much as he did that the truth might not be best for someone in a delicate state. They didn't even know what had led to his strange amnesia. They didn't want to make things worse.

"We're friends," Matt said, shooting Karen a look. That was all that Frank needed to know until his memory came back to him. "We're friends, and you called Karen. You sounded worried and hurt, so we tracked you down and found you lying in a ditch." 

"Okay," Frank murmured. "My head really hurts. Do I need a doctor or somethin' like that?"

"Matt..." Karen whispered next to him.

"I have a friend who can help us," Matt said, trying to keep things calm. He felt strange, because he wasn't exactly lying to Frank. He just happened to be omitting things that would clue Frank into who he was. He knew that he sounded super suspicious. "I'm going to call her. Why don't you and Karen talk for a bit, and see if that jogs your memory?" 

Matt then took the opportunity to get out of there and call Claire. 

\---

Claire was less than amused when Matt explained the situation. She listened, quietly, but the moment that he stopped speaking, she announced her skepticism. 

"Do you know how rare something like that is, Matt?" Claire asked, and he imagined she was scowling. "I mean - he really asked you who he was? You couldn't get any more cliche than that if you tried." 

"Trust me, I know," Matt responded. "God, Claire, I know." 

"What are you going to do about him?" she asked. "You should really probably call the police, Matt. Let them take it from here..."

"I can't..." Matt began. "I just can't."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't remember," Matt stated firmly. "He's literally freaking out because the name Frank means nothing to him. That means that he's got nothing. He doesn't know he's The Punisher, that's for sure. I can't let him be dragged off by police like that..." 

Claire's tone softened.

"You're right Matt," she said somberly. "You're right..."

"Can you come by at all?"

Claire sighed, heavily. 

"Yeah, I'll be over in a little while. Just watch out for any signs that he's going unconscious, having a seizure, anything like that. Keep him up, talking and focused and I'll be there as soon as I can." 

\---

"Are you okay?" asked the woman who called herself Karen.

Frank - apparently that was his name - tried his best to nod, but found that he couldn't. 

"No, I'm not okay," he said bluntly. "I have no idea who I am, who you are, or why I'm here with a girl on the verge of an anxiety attack and a gorgeous blind man who seems scared of me. I have no idea why I trust you, or if I even know you."

"I'm not on the verge of anything..." she began defensively, then stopped and raised an eyebrow. "Matt's gorgeous, huh?" 

"He's the blind one, not me," Frank murmured, crossing his arms. "I don't understand. You guys are my 'friends' yeah? So where's my family?" 

He watched as the pretty blonde's face darkened considerably. Frank decided that he had to be good at reading people, because he saw the pain there clear as anything, even while she tried to hide it. She looked away from him, staring at the door to the bedroom. He leaned back against silk sheets that he was pretty sure weren't his own and groaned. 

"Frank, I..."

He decided to try a different angle. 

"Who lives here?" he asked.

"Matt," she said. "This is his apartment." 

"Have I been here before?" Frank then asked, trying his best to get information out of her. He was trying very hard to remain calm. He didn't know where he got the information from, but he knew for a fact that amnesia was rare, and usually did not last. He would get his memory back, so all he needed to do was be calm and try to trigger it. "It looks familiar, but not...familiar, really." 

"I think you have, yes..."

At that moment, the incredibly attractive blind man entered the room again. He looked over at Frank, and then towards Karen.

"Any weird symptoms?" he asked.

"I'm right here," Frank said indignantly. "No. I'm fine. My head just hurts. I don't think I need to see a doctor or anything right away, but this...this isn't good. I can't remember..." 

"My friend - our friend, Claire, is coming over right now," Matt said softly. Frank could tell that although his words sounded reassuring, that the man in front of him was utterly terrified. Something was scaring him to death, although Frank had no idea what. "She's a very skilled nurse. She'll check out your head and see when you'll regain...your memories." 

"I think I should probably go," Karen said. Frank looked up and saw that Matt was staring at her with a terrified expression. "I know, Matt. I do. I just have to check in at work, or everyone's going to be convinced that I'm dead or something. I'll be right back. Your friend will be here soon to check on him and everything. I'll be back. I promise." 

"Don't worry, I don't bite," Frank said with a laugh. "Or maybe I do, who knows?" 

He was starting to accept a bit of the absurdity of his situation. 

Karen left, and Frank was left alone with the blind guy. Matt looked at him, and then took off his glasses. His eyes had the unfocused look that Frank expected on a blind man, but they were soft, kind, and very attractive. 

"So, is there a reason we're not goin' to a doctor?" Frank asked. "It seems like that's the usual reaction to something like this..." 

"I don't trust doctors." 

Frank wanted to laugh. That was such a bullshit excuse, and he knew it. The man in front of him knew it too, and it was obvious in his expression. He didn't say anything immediately, though, wanting to figure things out on his own.

"I don't think I do either, but this isn't exactly a run of the mill experience," Frank laughed. "I mean, c'mon."

"Do you have any memories at all?" Matt asked, obviously trying to distract him and change the subject. "Or any vague feelings even?" 

"I don't think so," Frank murmured in reply, allowing at least a momentary change of subject. "No memories, at least. This place seems a little familiar, and, well, so do you..." 

"Oh. Well, we have a bit of a history..."

"History, huh?"

"Yeah." 

Frank wondered what kind of history that the handsome man in front of him could be referring to. The way Matt spoke about it made him seem painful...

Frank's thoughts seemed to trail off. He was tired, very tired. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then, there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank woke up to a new face. She was a beautiful woman, although not nearly as attractive to him as the blind one. Yeah, he didn't know a thing about himself, but maybe he was gay. No, he wasn't gay... Something in the back of his mind denied that. He had been with a woman in the past, even if he couldn't access the memories, but oh, Matt definitely drew him. So, he went both ways. That was a comfortable realization. At least he knew something about himself.

Yet, he knew absolutely nothing about Matt. What was their history? 

"Hi Frank," she said delicately. "My name's Claire. Matt called me and asked me to check on you." 

She flicked a flashlight on. Frank watched the light. 

"He seems focused," she told Matt. "Frank, do you remember anything about how you ended up in a ditch?" 

Frank laughed, rather bitterly. 

"No," he said. "I don't remember anything at all. I don't..." 

"It's okay," she said softly. "We're not exactly sure why you can't remember, but I'm pretty sure that it has something to do with your previous head injury..." 

She trailed off when Matt touched her shoulder, sharply.

"Previous injury?" Frank asked.

"Don't mind that," Matt said, smiling brightly. Frank couldn't remember shit, but he knew that was the fakest thing he'd ever seen. "You just have a tendency to get hurt more often than not."

"Telling me that I'm clumsy?" Frank asked, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. 

He was getting antsy, uncomfortable. He could tell that the people around him were lying, and without a shred of memory to go off of, it was terrifying. He wanted answers. 

He wasn't going to get them from Claire, that was for sure, because during the rest of the time that she checked him over, the nurse did not say a word. 

Afterward, instead of addressing Frank, the nurse turned towards Matt. 

"He's going to be okay," she said, delicately. "It's weird, considering the amnesia and all, but he seems to be fine. I mean, we don't have an x-ray or anything, but..." 

"It's about as weird as anything else," Matt sighed, looking from her to Frank. "Do you want to stick around for while, Claire, or..." 

"No. I need to go." 

Frank raised an eyebrow at that. Well, that was made pretty clear. 

"Alright, thank you." 

The woman shot a quick look from Matt to Frank. 

"Take care." 

Once Claire was gone, Frank looked up at Matt. The man above him looked terrified, rubbing his hand along the back of his head. What was he so scared of? Frank shook his head, not understanding entirely. What was his issue? 

"What is wrong with you?" he began. "I..." 

"What's wrong, Frank?" Matt asked, delicately. 

He could not describe the feeling, honestly. There was just something familiar about the look on Matt's face.

"Take off your glasses," he whispered.

He half expected Matt to protest, but he didn't. He slid them off and Frank took a moment to look into his eyes. They looked familiar, as if he'd seen them many times before. They mostly expressed fear, worry and concern, but Frank could imagine another expression there - anger, annoyance even.

"You and I had a past, huh?" he asks. "There's something real familiar about your eyes." 

"Yeah, I suppose you can say that we have a bit of a past." 

"Interesting." 

He had a feeling that he was looking at someone he'd been very intimately involved with once.

\---

A day after finding Frank, Matt was disturbed to find that nothing had changed - Frank still didn't remember a thing, he was upset at being trapped in Matt's apartment, and he kept giving Matt these confused, desperate looks. It was like he was trying to figure out something deeper, but didn't have the memory to grasp it. 

"You're going to be okay," Matt said, following one of those longing looks. "I know you're frustrated Frank, but things will be just fine..." 

"You're holding way too much back from me!" 

With these words, Frank got up off of the sofa. Karen had been pretty good at convincing Frank that he needed to stay , needed to try his best to relax, but Karen was often too busy to stick around for too long. As far as Matt could sense, the whole situation made her nervous too. He couldn't blame her exactly, because harboring a felon without a memory was weighing on his chest too.

"Frank," he murmured. "I just don't know how much I should tell you. Karen did some research and it might shock you to learn too much too fast." 

Sighing, Frank turned away from him. 

"I'm not asking you to read me a biography of my life!" he yelled. "I'm just asking that you tell me something about myself. I can tell that you and I used to be a thing, you know?" 

That stopped everything. Frank spoke with such utter certainty and Matt could hear that he had no hesitation, no doubt in his words. 

"A thing?"

"Oh c'mon, don't mess with me, Red. I need to get out of here." 

With that, Frank walked off, before Matt could even process what he'd called him.

He was left gaping for a half of a second at the shred of memory that seemed to poke its way through, before he chased after him.

\---

Frank walked down the hallway as fast as he could. He half expected Matt to follow him, but then shook his head at his own stupidity. The man was blind. There was no way he could do any kind of chasing. 

Once he realized he wasn't being pursued, he slowed down considerably. His heartbeat also slowed. Was be that used to being chased around that he knew how to calm himself? That was a strange thought. 

He had barely left the apartment building when he ran straight into Karen. The girl's eyes widened. 

"Frank!" she yelled. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting out of here," he told her firmly. "He won't tell me anything and I'm on the verge of freaking out here. I need answers, you know? I know he and I had a thing, but it couldn't have been that bad..."

"You had a thing..." Karen repeated dully, raising an eyebrow. "Do you remember something?"

Frank sighed, exasperated. Escape wasn't coming as easily as he'd hoped. 

"I don't remember shit," he said, trying to pass her. Her immediate reaction was to block him, a man who was likely more than twice her strength. That impressed him and made him falter, at least for a second. "I remember him though. He makes me feel things - like I hate his guts and yet I admire him, I feel a lot for him. What else could that be but an ex, yeah?"

"What else could it be..." Karen repeated awkwardly.

"It's okay Frank."

Frank whipped around to find Matt right behind him. He held up his free hand. 

"It's okay," he repeatedly "we had a bit of an up and down past, yeah, but it's okay. Truth is, you don't have any living family that we know of, and you've moved since I saw you last, so we're trying to figure out where you belong. That's all..."

Frank softened a little at the gentle expression on Matt's face. The guy seemed to genuinely care and he knew he was being a dick. He was just scared and he had a feeling that whoever Frank was, he didn't handle being afraid very well. 

"You promise you'll give me answers?" Frank asked.

"Slowly, but surely."


	3. Chapter 3

Does Frank remember anything yet?" Karen asked, over the phone. "What have you introduced him to so far?" 

Matt sighed heavily.

"I told him all I knew, except for the loss of his family," he murmured, shaking his head. "I told him about his military history, what little bit of a personal biography we put together during the case. He's also dead convinced I'm his ex-boyfriend."

"Why aren't we correcting that assumption?" Karen asked. He could easily hear the exhaustion in her voice. She'd been working crazy hours at the paper. "I mean, it's not true..."

"No," he admitted, "but I don't know how he'd take to 'we're both vigilantes roaming the streets, except you kill people because you lost everything.' Seems...wrong to lay that on."

"Yeah it does."

Matt could hear Frank in the bedroom, moving to the door. 

"We'll figure it out," he assured Karen. "I gotta go".

Matt hung up the phone the moment that Frank walked into the room. Frank was quiet for a brief moment. It was obvious to Matt that he was looking at him, taking an account of him. It was a scary thing, something that made him feel vulnerable, to say the least. 

"What is it?"

"I didn't say anything." 

Matt cracked a small smile at that, trying to make Frank feel comfortable. "That's true," he conceded, walking toward Frank, "but there's a ton you weren't saying. You were staring at me." 

"I thought you were blind," Frank said bluntly.

"You're obvious when you stare." 

Frank faltered a bit at that, and Matt could not help but smile. There was something charming about this version of Frank. He realized, of course, that this was who Frank could have been if not for the pain, the loss that had lead to The Punisher. Frank could have been this gentle man who loved his wife and kids and dreamed of better.

It was tragedy and Matt tried his best not to think about it. 

"I'm sorry," Frank said, his tone gentle. Matt was sure that his smile was gentle too. "Were you on the phone with Karen?"

"Yeah, I was," Matt said. "Why?"

"Just curious. She seems to really care about me, and all of this, but at the same time she seems really scared..."

"She does care about you," he assured Frank, thinking that would help. It was at least a small truth in all of the lies that he and Karen were telling - well, maybe they weren't lies, but Matt was pretty certain that a lie by omission was still a lie. "She's a good person..."

"Busy too." 

"Yeah," Matt admitted. "She really is. She's rising so fast in her career as a journalist that she doesn't have a lot of time..."

Frank walked across the room and sat down on the sofa. Matt calmly followed him and sat down next to him. He could feel Frank's rather intense gaze on him and looked away, blushing. 

"You feel familiar," Frank said, reaching over and touching Matt's leg. He flinched at the touch, but tried to regulate his breathing. "You feel familiar where nothing else does. It's weird..." 

\--- 

Frank knew that he had better things to do than flirt with his ex. His priority had to be getting his memories back, to make the mess in his head clear, but at the same time, he could not help follow the connection to Matt, because that was the only thing that he could come up with that made sense. 

"How did we meet?" he asked the man, as they sat together on the sofa. "I know you don't wanna overload me or anything, but that could really help, since you're the only thing that seems familiar. " 

He watched as Matt struggled. He looked away and then right back at Frank. His gaze was a bit low. 

"You were going through a rough time," Matt said dryly. He swallowed, which led Frank, of course, to suspect that he wasn't telling the entire truth. He really cared about this man and he could feel his connection to him more than anything else, but something about Matt really screamed suspicious with every move that he made. "You were struggling with some things and we actually fought a lot in the beginning..."

"Okay," Frank said. It was too vague, but he'd take it. 

"I had a hard time with you," Matt said gently. "You and I aren't exactly alike."

"I got that much," Frank said with a grin. Matt was really cute, especially when he was trying to be delicate. He wasn't sure of much, so he was going to have fun with his adorable friend. It calmed some of the nerves that were firing off a million miles per second. "But you ended up liking me, right?"

Matt's smile was strained. "I actually did, yes," he said. "You're a good person, Frank. You've been through a lot of messes, but you keep coming back strong..." 

"You look strangely cute right now."

Matt looked at him like he was utterly crazy. His eyebrows raised and he stood up, stepping back. 

"What's that look for?" Frank asked.

"That's just not like anything I ever thought I'd hear you say, ever." 

"Well, regardless of rather or not I'd have said it before, I'm saying it now." 

Matt could hear the confidence in Frank's voice, and that was literally the only thing that reminded him that Frank was still Frank in every way. He believed in what he was saying one hundred percent. He had conviction and strength, even when he was absolutely supposed to be uncertain. 

"I guess that's fair..."

Focusing in on Frank's heartbeat, Matt could hear that it was thumping at a million miles per minute. He was so afraid, so excited, and so determined. He inhaled, exhaled and then Matt's senses all blurred for a moment. 

Then Frank's lips were on his. Matt felt everything go black inside and out for a moment.

Matt had no idea what he was supposed to do, but he knew exactly what he wasn't supposed to be doing. He wasn't supposed to be kissing Frank back, enjoying the brush of his soft, gentle lips. Why were his lips so gentle and sweet? It felt perfect, tender and warm and...

"Wait, stop!" he yelled. "Stop, please!"

Frank pulled back, looking at him, literally staring him down. 

"Why? Don't you want..."

"That is the problem," Matt said harshly. He then winced, because his own words were so vicious, so cold. He realized, however, that he did want Frank. He had been dealing with his attraction to The Punisher for months now, but now that Frank wasn't that man anymore - it was even harder to just push those lingering thoughts away. "I want, Frank. I really am attracted to you, but I can't."

"Why not? Is there someone?"

"No, no..." Matt murmured. "I want, but I know that when you come back, when you're you, that it's just going to hurt us both. Sorry. I'm so sorry..."

"I don't understand!" Frank was visibly frustrated. "Tell me how we met."

"We have to go back a bit further than that..." Matt whispered, afraid of what was going to happen. 

Matt knew that what he was doing was a bad idea. He and Karen had decided that when the time came to tell Frank the truth, that they were going to do it together. Karen had, however, also found a photograph of Frank and his wife in the man's wallet. He had to stop Frank's strange attraction to him, because it was something that he'd never follow through with when he had his memories back. It also wasn't something Matt was sure that he'd allow himself to continue with - not with The Punisher.

"You were married, Frank," Matt began. His voice trembled a bit, and he tried his best to steady it. He needed to be calm. "Her name was Maria, and I don't know a whole lot about your relationship, but I know that you loved her very much. Would it be too much if I showed you a picture?"

Frank's breathing quickened. He was terrified.

"I was married?" he asked. "Maria... I...I don't remember anything about that. Her name doesn't even sound familiar." 

"The picture?" Matt asked.

Frank nodded.

Matt handed it over. It was a small wallet-sized image. Karen had described Maria Castle as a very pretty woman with blonde hair, gentle eyes and a warm smile. In the photo, she was with Frank and his arm was around her shoulder. Frank was smiling.

Frank's breath hitched and Matt was terrified for a second that he was going to scream, cry, lash out, or even worse start to remember too rapidly. This didn't happen though. He just stayed quiet for a long moment, so long that Matt had to say something.

"Frank?"

"I don't remember her," Frank whispered. Matt could feel him turn the photo upside down on his leg. "I...I don't remember her at all. Shouldn't I be able to remember her?" 

"I don't know how you lost your memories," Matt admitted. "So, I don't know why." 

"What happened to her?" Frank whispered.

Matt bit his lip, hard. This was definitely not a task that he should have taken on by himself.

"She died," he told Frank, speaking softly, slowly. "She was killed."

Frank took a breath and it sounded a bit like he was crying. Panic gripped Matt in the chest. He could not deal with someone like Frank crying. Luckily, the sound subsided and it seemed that yes, even without his memories, Frank still was the man who bottled up all of his pain to use in anger. 

"Was my marriage before or after us?" 

"Before," Matt said, "but it's not quite like you think it is..." 

"I don't want to know anymore right now." 

Matt looked up at Frank, surprised by his words. He had been so desperate to know more about himself, but now that he knew something major, he was holding back. Matt honestly couldn't blame him, once he thought about it. Frank couldn't remember the wife he lost, someone who had once meant everything to him.

"I can't remember my dead wife," Frank said bluntly. "I do, however, get these really strong feelings when I'm near you." 

"I can't explain why," Matt said honestly. "I mean, I really can't..." 

"I don't want you to explain why," Frank groaned. "Just...let me kiss you again, okay? I think I felt something when we were kissing. I just can't quite reach it yet." 

"I just don't think that's wise. You have feelings for me, but with your memories, you don't. Trust me on this one, Frank."

"I don't think that a person can have feelings and lose 'em just cause their head's been knocked loose." 

Frank reminded Matt so much of the man he knew, yet something had been removed. He knew, for a fact, that what was missing was memory of the moment that broke him. He didn't remember Maria, which meant that the kids were gone too... He didn't know that pain.

"Frank, I can't..."

"C'mon." 

"Okay."

Then, they were kissing and Matt could not stop. As much as he wanted to, as much as he knew that it was going to break both of their hearts, he couldn't stop. It was like the kissing possessed him, made everything except for he and Frank stop mattering.

Frank pulled back then, a look of awe on his face.

"What is it?" 

"I can remember watching you," Frank said. "It was like I was stalking you. I can see myself following you, looking at you, and all I can get is this sense of great longing..." 

"Longing?" Matt asked, curious as to what Frank could mean by that. It was obvious that he was remembering something. "What do you mean by longing?" 

Frank sat back and sighed. Matt could sense him looking around the room. "I don't even know exactly what I mean," he huffed. "All I can remember is following you and really wishing that I was enough for you, that we could put our differences aside and work together. We must've had some damn breakup..."

"Some damn...yeah..." 

Matt stood up. His heart was beating heavily in his chest. 

"Frank, I need to go for a minute," he said quietly. "Can you hang here for a bit? I think Karen's coming over later."

"Go for it Red," Frank said with a laugh. "Wait, why did I call you that? I've called you that before..." 

"I'll tell you later." 

Matt left, as fast as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

Matt needed a drink. In fact, he needed to be shamelessly and unapologetically drunk. He found himself at Josie's, a place he'd imagined he'd never see again after the fall of Nelson and Murdock. It all came back to the same old places, the same habits. 

"Well, well, well..." Josie drawled, the second he entered the bar. "Look who it is. You couldn't even come say goodbye after Nelson closed your tab."

"He closed it?"

"Yeah, turns out at least one of you is good for something," she laughed. "The usual?" 

Matt nodded slowly.

The drink was passed over and the burn pleased him. It calmed some of the insanity inside of him. He blinked, feeling a lot like crying. That wasn't something he did every day.

It was just too hard. He had feelings for Frank that he could not deny. There was nothing to deny, really. He wanted Frank and would think of their kisses for the rest of his life, but Frank was The Punisher. Frank didn't want anything but revenge.

Matt was halfway to drunk pretty quickly. He knew that even if Frank had feelings for him before the loss of memories, that this would never work. He didn't believe in what Frank did. Frank was disturbed, a product of brain damage and trauma and a million other things.

His phone rang. The bar was so loud and Matt's senses were so muddled that he hardly recognized the spoken caller ID. Then he did. Foggy. Foggy was calling.

Now, Matt was of every mind not to pick it up. He was pretty sure that his former best friend wanted nothing to do with him at this point and it seemed like a better idea not to, but Matt was confused, tired and lonely, so he picked it up. 

"Hello?" Matt asked, getting up slowly, and heading towards the door. "Foggy? What's up? Is something wrong?"

As he said those words, the thought crossed Matt's mind that something really could be wrong with Foggy. After all, if nothing else would make Foggy call, an emergency might.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, before Foggy could speak.

"I'm okay, but you need to get over here quickly." 

"Why?" 

"It's Frank Castle. He's with Karen and he's freaking the fuck out."

"Frank?" Matt asked, confused. "What's happening? Freaking out how?"

"She says that they were just talking," Foggy told him, voice clipped with something that sounded a lot like anger. "I don't know what he's doing here, or why neither of you told me that he was back, but she said that they were just talking, and he wanted to go outside. They went into an alleyway and he had some sort of flashback..." 

"His memories came back?" 

"I didn't even know that he lost them, Matt!" Foggy yelled. "I'm kind of out of the loop here. All I know that Karen's alone with a psychopath who's panicking and I'm getting to her as fast as I can, but I'm not a superhero - so get your ass over there." 

Foggy hung up. 

Matt almost stopped to argue that he was so far from a superhero, but instead he hauled ass back home. He ran as fast as he could, keeping his senses engaged so that he could hear them. 

He heard them not far from his apartment. Karen was speaking softly, trying to keep Frank together.

"Frank," she said, her voice steady and strong. "Frank... it's okay. Whatever you're seeing, I know it might not make sense..."

"He told me about my wife!" Frank yelled, so loud that Matt was sure even those without his abilities could hear. "He told me that I had a wife, but he didn't tell me about the kids. He didn't tell me that I was there...I can see them. I can see them in my head right now." 

That was all Matt needed to know to run. He ran over to them, finding that Frank and Karen were just outside the apartment and Frank was on his knees. He was holding his head, almost as though he was in physical pain. Maybe he was. Matt knew what pain felt like and what it smelled like and this was pain, pure and simple.

"Frank..." he said, grabbing the man around the shoulders. "Frank. Listen to me. It's Matt. I'm here right now." 

Frank lashed out. He struck Matt hard across the face. Matt didn't even have time to anticipate it - to see it coming. He groaned out in shock, reeling back and hitting the floor with his hands stretched out in front of him to brace himself from the fall. 

"You didn't tell me!" Frank yelled. He rushed at Matt, grabbing him about the middle, but Matt had left his haze behind. He grabbed Frank's left arm, pinning it behind his back. Frank flailed madly with the freed one. "You didn't tell me that I had kids! I can see my little girl! 

"I didn't think you were ready to hear that, to know that," Matt said, biting his lip. "Frank...look, I've got you..."

"Wait, you're blind. How the hell did you do that?"

"Frank, breathe," Matt said gently, loosening his hold on Frank. He hadn't meant to be so hostile in response to Frank's panic, but he didn't know. The man was a flight risk, he was dangerous and there was only so much that could be done about that. "Breathe deeply for me." 

Frank inhaled and Matt could tell that he was just doing it to placate them.

"What the hell is going on?" Frank asked, clutching his temple like he was trying to keep the information from getting out.

Matt didn't exactly know what to do. He looked over at Karen, and he didn't need to see her to know she was staring at them in horror. She was usually a bit better in a crisis, but at the same time, she cared for Frank and that made it harder. Matt didn't say anything. He just shrugged at her and held Frank against him. 

"It's alright," Matt assured him quietly. "It's just a lot of memories coming in, that's all."

"It's not." 

"What?"

"It's not a lot of memories coming in," Frank said, voice harsh. "It's not a lot of memories at all. It's just one. One memory. One thing. Something's not right." 

He lurched forward and Matt heard his breathing pattern change as soon as he hit the floor face forward.

"He passed out..." Karen explained, but Matt already knew that much. 

"Help me," Matt told Karen, even though he could reasonably lift Frank on his own. He hoisted them an up with an arm and Karen took his other side. "Let's take him back inside and just lie him down, okay?" 

In a few minutes, Frank was on his bed. He was half-conscious really, because Matt could hear him mumbling things under his breath. They would be indecipherable to most, but with his hearing Matt caught things like "Lisa..." and "Maria..." and it hurt more than he thought possible. He leaned over and touched Frank's shoulder lightly.

"Nothing's connecting," Frank said finally, opening up his eyes and regaining his composure, as well as his awareness. "Everything's going off at once, but nothing's connecting. Does that make sense to you at all?" 

"Not really," Matt said, unable to sugar coat that, "but Frank...the night that your family was killed, you were also shot." 

"I know that," Frank said, almost sounding as though he were surprised by his own words. "I remember pain. I remember thinking that my head had exploded, but somehow I was still conscious. Then, that's all. There was nothing after that." 

"Well," Matt said, reaching over and touching his arm. "That gives us something that might have contributed to your memory loss, right?" 

Frank sighed and leaned back. 

"So, you're going to tell me about your secret blind guy mojo and why we broke up when I wake up," he stated plainly, and then his eyes closed. He was sleeping moments later.


	5. Chapter 5

Frank was vaguely aware that he was dreaming when the dreams came on. He could see a vivid picture of death and destruction, and as much as he wanted to look away, he couldn't. He could clearly see the people he loved most destroyed, torn apart, but at the same time, he didn't feel the love that he had for them. He could feel the grief, and loss, but it wasn't like it was his own. It was like someone else's little girl's face had been blown to bits, someone else's wife was lying there missing the back of her skull.

Then, in his dreams, there was Matt. Stupid blind Matt stood there looking at him through dark glasses. It felt like Matt was staring right through him, judging him for something that Frank couldn't remember. Then, a memory disguised itself as a dream.

"We shouldn't be associating," said Matt, pressing his cane against the concrete between them and leaning on it for support. "Frank, you know that I don't approve of what you do. You know that if I could, I'd be the first to send you back to prison..." 

"You're lying again, Matthew Murdock," Frank heard himself say, laughing bitterly. "You don't approve of my work, but you wouldn't dare cross me. You know that I'm the best ally you got in this. You know that you want me on your side, not against you." 

Matt said nothing and Frank woke up, inhaling sharply.

Karen was there with him. She looked over at him with a tired expression on her face. 

"Hi Frank," she said, forcing a smile. "Did you sleep okay?" 

Frank looked up at her, and then forced himself to sit up. He groaned as his muscles protested the sudden movement. He rubbed the back of his head.

"I had a dream," he told her. "At first it was just all of that horrible stuff. What happened to me and my family..." 

"I'm sorry," Karen whispered. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Frank. That may have been a bad move, but we didn't want to overwhelm you." 

"I get it," he said irritably. "So, I'd love it if you told me why pretty boy wants me in prison?" 

"What do you mean Frank?" Karen asked. He could sense her incredible tension.

"I dreamed about him," Frank said, not beating around the bush at all. "He was standing there, and he told me that I deserved prison. Now, I'd really like to know what I did to deserve that. I want to know, now."

The girl looked like she was going to be sick or something. Frank almost felt guilty.

"Frank, I'm still really concerned about what learning too much will do to you." 

He gave up and stood up then. 

"Bullshit," he said plainly. "I think that seeing my family like that kind of tips it over the edge. What did I do to deserve prison?" 

"I can't, Frank..." Karen whispered, and to his surprise, he caught several tears rolling down her cheek. She didn't seem like the girl who cried easily, but she was definitely hurting. "Believe me, if I could tell you, I would. I just can't do this..."

Frank stared her down for a minute and then realized that she wasn't going to tell him. He didn't know her well, but he could tell that she was incredibly strong willed. She wasn't going to back down just cause he said so. 

"I'm leaving," he said. "I'm going for a walk. I'll talk to you later." 

"But..."

"I gotta go."

\---

Matt didn't exactly feel comfortable stalking Frank, but it was the only way he felt safe. After Karen had told him that Frank walked off, he had spotted the man and followed from a safe distance. He just wanted to make sure that he was okay, and yet still give Frank time to blow off steam. 

He followed the man all the way to the edge of town. He went into a little corner store, bought something and exited. Soon, the smell of cigarette smoke filled the air. 

"I know you're following me," Frank said with a laugh. "Wanna tell me if you're really blind or not, at least?" 

Matt knew that whatever skills Frank had before his amnesia would obviously follow him, but the sudden knowledge still hit him hard. He stepped out of his hiding place and looked at Frank, sadness striking him.

"I am blind," he assured. "It's just...very complicated." 

"You sure track well for a blind man." 

"I've got some other skills," Matt admitted. "Frank, Karen said that you ran off pretty upset and I kind of had to follow you..." 

Frank turned to face him. He could hear the man's heart hammering against his rib cage. 

"I dreamed about you," he said. "I dreamed that you wanted me in prison." 

Matt nodded slowly.

"We need to have a talk," he said, honestly. "Will you come with me?"

Frank stared at him so hard that Matt could physically feel it. 

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm not going to go with you and talk unless you plan on answering my questions honestly," Frank said, firmly. "I'm not going to take any of your bullshit half-answers or any 'you can't handle this yet.' Trust me, I can handle it. I need to handle it." 

"That's fair," Matt said, even though the idea was torment to him. He didn't want to delve into their deep past, especially when Frank kept tempting him with a better reality than the one they lived in. "Why don't we go back to the apartment? I know a good spot on the roof where people won't bother us."

"The roof?" Frank asked with a slight laugh. "Fair."

Once on the roof, Frank sat down near the edge. 

"Okay, I'll start with an easy one," he said. "If you're blind, how come you tracked me like some kind of goddamn expert?" 

Matt sighed. Even the easy one seemed impossible to answer.

"I was given certain abilities," he admitted. "I was blinded when I was nine years old. There were these chemicals, and I don't really know what happened. They blinded me, but they also gave me something else. I can sense things that most people can't. I use all of the other senses and they sort of come together and create a clear picture of the world for me. I can also...I can sense things that other people might not be able to." 

"Like what?" Frank asked.

"Like the fact that your heart is beating fast, or that you keep clenching your left fist instinctively, because I'm making you very nervous."

Matt sat down next to Frank and felt the cool air. It was getting colder quickly. 

"Okay, so you're some kind of superhero then." 

"I guess you could say that." 

Frank paused for a moment and Matt could tell that he was thinking deeply.

"What is it?"

"I can remember that my daughter really liked superheroes," Frank said. "My wife loved old comic books and she gave Lisa her old ones. Captain America was her favorite..." 

"Hey, that's good," Matt said, reaching over and touching his shoulder. Frank flinched a little at the contact. "I try to be what I can, at least. I know these abilities are special." 

Frank was quiet and Matt could assume that he was processing flickers of new memories. He allowed him that. 

"Why do you think I deserve prison?" he asked quietly, after a time. "What did I do?" 

Matt felt like his heart was going to break. The pain was physical, acute. 

"Frank, I don't know the whole story," he said, "but after your losses, you decided that you were going to get your revenge. Two gangs were involved in the shootout that took your family from you. There were many threads, many people involved..." 

Frank didn't speak again for some time and then asked a simple question. 

"How many?" 

Matt paused.

"What?" 

Frank stared out into the darkness in front of them. Matt couldn't see it, of course, but that's all there really was - an endless expanse of darkness. 

"How many have I killed?" Frank asked. "I don't remember anything about it, but it makes sense. I feel like I'm capable of killing. I feel like there's something in me that could do it, especially now that I've seen my family. So, yeah, how many?" 

"I don't know," Matt admitted. "There were so many..." 

There was a hitch in Frank's voice then. It sounded to Matt like Frank was trying not to cry, but he had a feeling that without his senses, he wouldn't be able to hear that distinct change.

"So, you hate me." 

Matt frowned when he heard those words. No, he didn't hate Frank. He didn't hate Frank even though everything in him said that he should. He was supposed to hate Frank, because killing was a mortal sin, because Frank stood against everything Matt was, but god, no, there was nothing in him that had ever hated the man. 

"No, I don't hate you."

Frank then kissed him, and if Matt had thought their previous kiss was electric - this one was fire.

Pulling away from the kiss, Matt couldn't help but smile. As much as there was behind their kiss, it was simply joyful. The fire and intensity was enough to make his heart beat faster. 

"So, did we ever date, then?" Frank asked. "Or was that something I made up too?" 

"No, we didn't," Matt admitted. "We have a bit of an interesting relationship." 

"You're a goddamned superhero aren't you?" Frank asked, and Matt could hear his heart beat faster. He was remembering something and it was coming on very fast. It scared him, as much as Frank tried, instinctively, to hide his fear. "Oh my god, you're a superhero." 

"Far from it," Matt said, almost his immediate reaction to that word. "Vigilante is more like it." 

"Oh, I get it," Frank said, nodding. "You're one of those people who wants to play by his own rules and save the world. I can admire that, in it's own weird way. I bet my kid would have liked the way you do things." 

"It seems like you're getting your memories back, even if it's coming slow," Matt said tenderly. He didn't know what was going to happen, but there was something that was going on between himself and Frank and he had to admit that he liked it. "I think they'll come back." 

"I have something wrong with my head, don't I?" Frank asked. "I don't mean the killing and stuff, either." 

"I'd imagine that being shot point blank in the head would cause some damage," Matt admitted. "In fact, you're kind of a miracle, Frank, but I guess we kind of live in a world of miracles." 

"Mhm, yeah altar boy, God's full of em." 

Frank then paused. 

"I'm attracted to you," he said, "and I don't think that's something I invented in my crazy amnesia, either. I think that's something I was feeling before." 

"I was attracted to you before too," Matt admitted, almost at the same time that he realized it was true. 

He was attracted to Frank, in spite of the morally grey areas that surrounded them. He wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen, or how Frank's memories were going to return to him. He wasn't sure if Frank would continue killing when he got them back, and how that would affect them. 

Nothing was exactly fine, but there was something much more clear in his head. 

"Do you think I'll get my memories back?" Frank asked. "Do you even want me to get 'em back?" 

"I think that you will," Matt said honestly. "I mean, like I said - the fact that you survived being shot was a miracle. I'm pretty sure that whatever triggered the memory loss can be reversed somehow. You're getting memories back pretty rapidly." 

"And my second question?" Frank asked.

"Well, I mean," Matt began, sighing because he knew that Frank wasn't going to love any answer he gave. "I don't exactly want you to go back to killing. You and I have ever different moral codes and the killing is hard to deal with. I don't want you to feel like it's necessary, because I care about you a lot - obviously." 

"You like me too much to wanna see me kill," Frank said with a laugh. "That'd be cute if it wasn't insane." 

"Exactly."

"I don't wanna kill anyone right now," Frank pointed out. "I don't have enough of my memories to want to kill anyone - good guy or bad guy." 

"Do you want your memories back?" 

"Oh, now you've got the cool questions," Frank murmured, staring out onto the skyline. "Yeah. I want my memories back. I know that my memories are half here. I'm built on those memories, and I need them, but...I don't want you to go away." 

"I won't go away." 

"Okay then."


End file.
